Leaving Nancy under the efficient protection of her aunt with light hearts, Davy and I went our several ways; but ere long, after recounting my adventures and receiving a large amount of hero-worship from my mother, I once more found myself on the road leading to the scene of action. It seemed impossible to keep away. On the top of a high rock I saw a crowd of people in a state of great and evident excitement. I hastened to join them, and perceived at once the reason of their gesticulations. There were the three tall men-of-war and the lugger, with all sail set, standing out from the land, and apparently sailing away with all speed to the place from whence they came. We could hardly believe our eyes. We looked at Carnunda; there floated the French flag, and the rocks were dark with men. “The Lord hath delivered them into our hand,” said the Reverend Mr. Jones, who stood near. This sight increased the confidence of our people amazingly, as much as (we afterwards heard) it struck dismay into the hearts of General Tate and his men, they not being animated by the spirit which moved the classic heroes to burn their boats so as to destroy the means of retreat and to force themselves to action. The base desertion of their comrades, the large supply of brandy in the farm-house cellars, and a providential but comic mistake, seem to have been the three principal causes of the failure of the French—one may say of the utter and singular collapse of their undertaking. The mistake occurred in this manner. Large numbers of the country-women (among whom were Jemima and Nancy) had assembled on a hill commanding an extensive prospect, including the French outpost at Carnunda, desiring, with the curiosity of their sex, to see as much as possible of what was going forward. It was, by the way, the same hill on which I had also stationed myself. Most of the women wore their distinctive shawl, a scarlet whittle, this being the colour appropriated by the daughters of Pembrokeshire; while their Cardiganshire neighbours have adopted the white whittle. All of them at that time wore high black hats. Lord Cawdor, as he was riding about inspecting things in general, was struck by the resemblance of a mass of these women to a body of regulars, and he called upon the daughters of Cambria to give a proof of their patriotism by marching towards the enemy in regular order. The females responded by a considerable cackle, which, however, signified assent. I saw Jemima and her niece in the front of the regiment which moved forward boldly towards the enemy. Ere long a sudden dip in the ground rendered them invisible to the French, at which place, turning into a side lane, they came again to the back of the hill whence they had started, and renewed their former course; it was done almost in the way in which, I am told, these effects are managed in a theatre. This manœuvre caused much laughter among the spectators, and no little puffing and panting to the